Message-ID: <53825asstr$1147273801@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <BAY106-F327E4AFFA1C67405C5A55BF8AE0@phx.gbl> X-Originating-Email: [yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com] From: "Yotna El'toub" <yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 X-OriginalArrivalTime: 10 May 2006 07:57:31.0531 (UTC) FILETIME=[63D7ADB0:01C67407] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 10 May 2006 07:57:29 +0000 Subject: {ASSM} The Strange Case of the Missing Madonna [Yotna El'toub] Chapter two Lines: 368 Date: Wed, 10 May 2006 11:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2006/53825> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: emigabe, newsman **************************************************************** {ASSM} The Strange Case of the Missing Madonna ~ A Holmes & Hove adventure Chapter two of several) [Yotna El'toub] (MF,FF,,MC,NC,magic. Caution: blasphemous) **************************************************************** WARNING: This story will contain situations and explicit language of an adult nature and should be read only by those of a legal age to do so. If you are a minor or object to stories of an adult nature, LEAVE HERE IMMEDIATELY. Legal age local to the author is 18+ please abide to your own local laws. Please note and understand the content codes for this story. The characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my story. Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the author is keen to state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only in the adult world. Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands of minors. ________________________________________________________________ ***AUTHOR'S NOTE*** Due to the subject matter this Holmes and Hove adventure will contain not only sex, but blasphemous content. I have no desire to upset people or their deeply held belief's, so if this is likely to upset you; stop reading *NOW*. If you continue to read despite my warning my conscience is clear, as *YOU* have made a free choice. ________________________________________________________________ His head hung low like a man aslumber. His craggy, pale features were partly hidden by the robes loose hood. He stared intently at the dark surface of the wooden table before him, his lips moving in a silent incantation. The door opened and she entered. "Well, do you have news?" He asked, without moving. "I have news Brother Dashwood. The foolish Reverend has employed a private investigator, he wishes to recover the 'Madonna'." "Excellent, so he believes in our subterfuge - we can use this. An investigator you say, that is of no concern. Our plans are bigger than one man, one country, or even one continent!" Dashwood smiled manically. "Yes brother, we will crush them. The cleric is strong though, he has a true faith." "Faith is good, we just need to shift the object of it, and we shall have him. He will have no recollection of the meeting?" "No mental recollection, I did leave him with a reminder of our meeting though." Dashwood roared his approval "You took the Vicar! You had the man of god?" he guffawed. "Oh yes, and he has the passion as well as the faith. He needs some training in the ways of lust, but he shows real promise." "So he is marked and vulnerable?" Dashwood asked. "Marked yes, but strong. It will take time and resolve to weaken him." "Clarice, you have done well. But your skills of dark seduction are for a more select audience. Do not waste your time on this fool." "Brother, I sense he is a strong one. A worthy addition to our flock." "Worthy maybe, but not influential. Our aim is higher Clarice." "I have needs Dashwood. Needs you gave me, I demand diversions." "And I have one for you. One I selected personally." Dashwood snapped his long, bony fingers. A panel slid back and two hooded figures emerged, between them stood a teenaged girl. Dashwood nodded, and the trio walked forward. Another nod and they stopped. Dashwood smiled briefly, he clicked his fingers once more. The brethren each grasped one shoulder of the girl's tunic and pulled, the garment fluttered to the floor. The blonde girl's barely mature body was exposed to the cold cave air; her nipples puckered. "But she is a woman, I have not taken a woman." Whispered Clarice. Dashwood smiled sardonically, and closed his eyes for a moment of intense concentration. When his eyelids pulled back his eyes had taken on an electric blue hue. "Do as thy wilt shall be the whole of the law!" All hesitation left Clarice, she walked directly to the shivering girl and brought her hands up to cup the generous globes of her bosom. Insistently her fingers tugged at the indolent tips. The girl sighed, shifting her weight slightly and parting her trembling legs. Clarice fell to her knees, bringing her mouth close to the girl's navel. At the touch of Clarice's tongue the girl's stomach drew back. "Oh nooo..." she gasped. Her hands did contradict her words and fell to ruffle Clarice's auburn hair. Encouraged Clarice swept her tongue down in long, liquid arc's targeting the fine patch of fair hair. Succulent lips met crinkled labia and fused. Reluctantly Dashwood walked away from the charming tableau, indicating to his brethren that they should follow. The chamber they left was soon filled with gasps and tender cries. ------------------------- "Well Holmes! That was incredible. Do you believe him?" "Which part of our discussion do you reference Hove?" "All of it I suppose, is he a madman? - That picture was just - impossible." "The icon is possible, his description of its qualities I doubt." "Ah you doubt what it depicts?" Brighton sighed. "I really can not comment, I am a man of science, not of religion. My rational mind tells me that the icon is not indestructible. Logic tells me that no inanimate object is capable of renewing itself." "But the Reverend told us of its survival through fire, storm and attack. Whatever happened to it, the following day it was all ways renewed, untouched by events - no matter how extreme they were. What does that tell you?" "It tells me there may be more than one icon." Holmes smiled. "More than one? I do not understand." "Let us surmise that the illuminati have a vested interest in the propagation of this blasphemous untruth. They would have the resources to replace a damaged icon with a duplicate, knowing it would only add to the images repute." Brighton grimaced. "Holmes this is too much, how do the illuminati come into this?" Ned wrapped an affectionate arm around Brighton's shoulder. "I apologise, I am not making myself very clear am I?" Brighton shook his head. "As clear as mud old chap. Maybe the lack of clarity lies in my mind?" "You know who the 'Monks of Medmenham' were?" Holmes asked. "Indeed, the Hellfire club, but that tomfoolery was done with a hundred years ago. Ned, it is history." "Now, I am not as certain as you of this, there was a rumour that Sir Francis met with the illuminati during his 'grand tour' of Europe. If that is the case the Hellfire club could have had their blessing. The fabled 'Monks' may have passed on but the illuminati are still with us. Still waiting." "Sir Francis?" "Sir Francis Dashwood, 15th Baron le Despencer - the founder of the Hellfire club. A club fabled for its orgiastic and satanic rituals." "But was he not..." Hove gasped. "Chancellor of the Exchequer, yes he was. Only one place removed from the Prime Minister. Such is the power of the illuminati." "My god! Only one more question Holmes." "Of course, ask away." "Who are the illuminati?" Ned laughed heartily. "The illuminati originate from Bavaria, they consider themselves the 'illuminated ones'. The holders of the ultimate truth. The hidden force behind world powers. Misguided and dangerous fools, but a real force for evil in the world." "And we have agreed to take them on?" Asked Brighton. Holmes nodded, his expression was grave. ------------------------- The Reverend sighed as he hung his hat on the coat-stand in the hallway of the vicarage, it had been a long day. His housekeeper walked from the kitchen and smiled briefly before speaking. "How was your journey into London Reverend Pearson?" "Awful, do you have any idea of the moral turpitude in that dark City. It is disgraceful. Henley is much more godly Mary." "I do not doubt it sir, I have never seen the attraction of the City." "No, nor should you be tempted Mary. I value your soul too much, and so should you." "Have no fear William. Now, some supper after your trials?" Pearson smiled. "How can I resist, although I do not want to become as portly as my father was Mary." "Good food did him no harm, no harm at all." "No I am aware of that Mary, it was the consumption. I had no intention to suggest anything else." Innocently Mary moved forward and tapped William's stomach. "Skin and bone, just skin and bone." She joked, but her laughter died on her lips. Even as an innocent it was obvious to her that her touch had enflamed the normally docile Reverend. He moved swiftly, and kissed her roughly. Mary pulled away in terror. "I am so sorry Mary. I have no idea of what came over me. I apologise profusely." Mary just trembled, as confused by her own response as she was by William's lust. "I will pass on supper Mary, and go straight to my bed. Please put this far from your mind. It will never happen again, goodnight." William walked to the stairwell and ascended the stairs wearily. In his bedroom he undressed swiftly and he was just pulling his night-smock over his head when he saw it. Beside his bobbing erection, just to the right of his manhood was a raised reddened circle. He touched it warily, running his finger tip over its surface. William winced at the dual sensations of pleasure and pain. Something made him frown and he moved closer to the mirror to examine the wound. Gingerly he pulled back the wiry hairs for a clearer view. There he saw it, reflected and inverted, but there could be no doubt, it was the first of the three sixes that formed the mark. The Reverend William Pearson felt his blood run cold. ------------------------- Dashwood entered the ante-room. He nodded and took his place at the head of the table. He spoke in a reverential tone. "We here assembled vow our lives to Satan, death unto death. Say I, Albert Dashwood." "Say I, Ralph Vansittart." "Say I, George Hogarth." "Say I Theodore Potter." "Say I, Frederick Duffield." "Say I, Ernst Thomson." "And I, Peter Whitehead." Dashwood spoke once more. "We the Monks of Medmenham, sons of the Hellfire club salute you dark lord. Watch over your brethren." "Well?" Said Vansittart, impatiently. "All goes to plan, except for one small detail." Replied Dashwood. "Small details are important man! What is it?" Barked Hogarth. "The Reverend managed to hire a private detective prior to Clarice finding him." "His name? Address? He must be despatched!" Said Duffield. "Details we lack at this point brethren." "Then Clarice must be issued forth to deal with the unruly priest." "My feelings too. Are we agreed?" Asked Dashwood. "We are!" Came the resounding reply. "Then let us project." Ordered Dashwood. The seated brethren joined hands and tilted their heads backwards in silent exultation. ------------------------- Clarice writhed atop the girl, her head wedged between the sullied maiden's legs; just as securely as was the maiden's head between hers. Her mouth worked on the soft folds, probing, nibbling - finding the spot. Clarice was rewarded with a warm draft of fluid which she drunkenly guzzled. And then... Coldness, darkness, the rushing of wind. Madly her spirit flew, high above West Wycombe, then veering steeply it swept away to the south. Clarice's world came back into focus. She was elsewhere. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness she could make out the room. It was a bedroom, but not one like her own. No this one was bare, austere in comparison. Her ears pricked up, she sensed the heavy breathing. Creeping forward she found the source, the Reverend Pearson lying on his crumpled bed, his night-smock around his neck as he urgently manipulated his turgid organ. Clarice smiled and then bent to take William's manhood in her warm mouth. The questions could wait, at least for a while. ------------------------- To be continued... ________________________________________________________________ Foot Notes (C) Yotna El'toub May 2006 ________________________________________________________________ I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, feedback is appreciated, since it is my only payment for my work. Please address comments to yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com This story is copyrighted by the author and as such may not be published, posted or archived on any newsgroup, website, or server, other than ASSM and ASSTR, without the EXPRESS PERMISSION of the author. 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